


haunt me in my sleep

by blue--phantom (twilightscribe)



Series: i'll be the blood (if you'll be the bone) [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blood and Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demon Hunters, M/M, McHanzo Week, McHanzo Week 2016, Not Period Accurate, Partners to Lovers, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Van Helsing AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8936710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/pseuds/blue--phantom
Summary: Vampires in Translyvania is very cliché, Jesse thinks. But that's where they're going next. He only hopes that Hanzo's got no problems with hunting his own kind. Things... don't exactly go as planned.





	

The absolute perfect time for being honest with yourself is when you’re hanging upside down from a ceiling.

For Jesse, that means hanging by his ankles from the rafters of a decaying church. Sometimes he thinks he needs a new line of employment.

He’s got none of the edge that most people in the business have. Majority of them are only partially human. That includes Reyes, who got him into this business in the first place. Not him, though. All he’s got to his name is a whole lot of skill, the tools of the trade and –

“My, my… what has my web caught tonight?”

Long, spindly fingers tilt Jesse’s face down, deadly claws cupping the sides of his face. He meets four eyes the same shade of pitch, which are surrounded by wan, sallow skin. The eyes are sunk deeply into the face, the skin of which is stretched tightly across the pronounced and protruding bones.

He risks a glance down, needing to know just what it is he’s dealing with tonight.

From the waist up, the creature’s vaguely humanoid, though it greatly resembles a dessicated corpse. Its torso connects into a bulbous, gleaming lower half, from which spout three sets of legs. The feet are spindly, making a muffled tapping noise against the decay-strewn floor of the old church.

The entirety of its body is the same sickly shade of yellow. The moonlight gives it a waxy sheen, emphasizing its corpse-like appearance. With its creepy, segmented joints, it reminds Jesse of those little porcelain dolls he’s seen in shop windows. It’s no wonder he’s always found those things so damn creepy.

Trailing those spindly fingers of its along Jesse’s torso, it finds the stakes he keeps stored at his sides. It pulls them free, dropping them to the floor where they land with a series of muffled clatters.

Its mouth splits open, forming a horrible jagged gash in its face that makes an ungodly cracking noise. Inside, teeth the colour of obsidian gleam, nestled in dark grey gums. The mouth itself is lipless, surrounded by a splattering of congealed blood.

“Someone’s armed, I see. Did you plan to kill me?”

It draws out the Ss into a long, low hissing noise that sets the hair on the back of Jesse’s neck on end. The tone of its voice is strangely lilting, almost singsong.

He winces back from it, its breath smells like that old mausoleum he once fell into – stale, stinking, and rife with the rot of flesh and decay. If Jesse were a lesser man, it would have knocked him right out.

Its tongue flicks out, licking Jesse’s cheek. Black like its teeth and it smiles, a mockery of one, as its mouth splits its face from side to side in a large dark gash.

“What tasty, dangerous prey I’ve caught tonight. The village must have hired you. Out of children already? Such a shame.”

He needs to be careful with Peacemaker. The creature can’t notice him drawing it; the stakes were more a diversion than an actual weapon. He knew what he was dealing with after speaking with the villagers.

All Jesse needs is a clear shot at the head.

“You’ve made an awful lot of enemies, who’s to say why I’m here?” Jesse says, shrugging. “Could be I’m just a Good Samaritan, passing through.”

The drider, because that’s what it is, cocks its head to the side as though listening to something only it can hear. Then it coos at Jesse, leaning in close so that their faces are nearly pressed together, “Too well armed for that, my dear. But you’re distracting me and my children will need sus–”

Split-second. All he’s got. He withdraws Peacemaker from its holster at his back. One shot, point blank range, under the jaw. Barrel aiming towards the rear of its skull.

The drider’s head explodes backwards, sickly yellow-white pus oozing from the wounds. Its body crumples to the ground, twitching as it falls. Then, after a few last twitches, the legs curl up towards its bulbous body and it’s still, leaving nothing but the stink of death in its wake.

What’s left is a gory mess and Jesse’s still hanging from the ceiling.

He sighs, “Just my luck.”

He hears the light touch of feet rustling through the debris. His head snaps around and –

“Are you always getting into such trouble when I’m not around?”

“Y’know, in this light, look’s like you’ve got batwings coming out of your head,” Jesse quips. He swings back and forth helplessly, trying to fold himself up enough to reach the webbing tangled around his ankles that’s keeping him suspended.

Hanzo snorts, “I see that all the blood has gone to your head.”

“You wanna help me down? Or are you just gonna leave me hanging?”

Hanzo moves like a blur, in one place one blink and another before the next. If he wasn’t used to it, Jesse’s pretty sure that it would give him a heart attack. Hanzo peers down at him from his perch in the rafters, right above Jesse’s feet.

“Ready?”

Jesse nods.

His landing is uncoordinated, but he manages a roll and nothing’s broken when he clambers awkwardly back to his feet. By the time that he’s standing again, Hanzo’s already back on the ground, nose wrinkled and glaring at the drider’s corpse.

“It’s got eggs,” Jesse says, nudging it away with his booted foot. It’s body creaks at the effort but, luckily, doesn’t burst open the way that he’s seen others do. “We’ll have to take care of those before we leave.”

“Disgusting,” Hanzo mutters under his breath. He glances at Jesse, “I recommend burning the place.”

“Now Hanzo–”

“If there is an infestation, then there is no other solution. You know well that driders spread like plague if left unchecked.”

Collecting his hat from where it fell on the ground, Jesse dusts it off and replaces it on his head, “Yeah, I know. C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

 

 

 

The church burns, bright orange and yellow, against the dim grey light of early dawn as they depart. Jesse doesn’t look back, simply lights a cigar as they ride off towards their next destination.

 

 

 

Jesse collects payment for the drider job when they stop in Florence.

Most people don’t actually know where to go to hire a professional hunter. Most hunters operate in small teams – usually no more than two or three. All belong to a loosely-tied together organization that someone, down the line, had affectionately titled Overwatch. The name stuck and that’s what it’s been ever since.

Jesse joined up young. Reyes pulled him out of a shitty place and an even shittier situation and gave him the choice: get locked up and take the fall as the leader of the Deadlock gang; or come and work for Overwatch, make something out of himself. Jesse chose the latter. He hasn’t regretted the decision yet.

Hanzo’s a newer addition. Joined up with Jesse shortly after Reyes officially retired. Good partner. Even better shot.

Jesse hasn’t told anyone that his new partner’s a vampire.

“Where are we going next?” Hanzo asks.

He looks like a dark, mysterious, handsome gentleman, leaning against the mouth of the alley while he waits for Jesse. As always, he’s immaculately dressed and there’s not a hair out of place. It’s enough to make Jesse’s mouth run dry.

“Dunno yet. New orders haven’t come in. Fancy a drink, partner?”

“Only if it is not the swill you consider a drink.”

 

 

 

Jesse rereads the rolled up paper again, then rolls it up, tucks it into his coat, and knocks back the rest of his drink. The bourbon burns as it goes down, but he doesn’t care.

Vampires in Transylvania. How cliché.

He’ll have to tell Hanzo.

Shit.

 

 

 

Hanzo stares, “We are hunting vampires?”

“Uh, yeah. Apparently there’s this old-ass one that’s been harassing this town,” Jesse explains, sinking into his seat. The train rumbles on, the noise filling up the silence. “We’re being sent in along with another team.”

“I see.”

Hanzo’s hands are neatly folded in his lap and he stares at them, not looking at Jesse at all.

“I–”

“You do not need to be concerned about me, Jesse,” Hanzo says. He looks up at him, “Whatever happens, I will be fine. After all, I have you.”

Jesse’s heart leaps up into his throat and his cheeks warm. He ducks his head, pulling the brim of his hat down over his reddening face. Damn, but he never used to be this easily flustered.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jesse says, voice muffled by his hat. He tugs it down, peering at Hanzo over the brim of it. “You mean to much to me to let anyone hurt you.”

For a moment, Hanzo’s eyes flicker away and the small smile on his face dims. When he looks back at Jesse, he’s almost… bashful. He peers at him through his eyelashes, hands tightly gripping his pants and Jesse’s surprised he hasn’t put a hole in them yet.

“Jesse,” he says, slowly. “When this is over, I… there is something that I would like to ask you.”

“You know you can ask me anything.” Jesse leans over, placing a hand over Hanzo’s. He gently pries his grip off his pants, interlacing their fingers. “Don’t think there’s much that I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I know. But this… it is… _different_.”

“Different how?”

Hanzo looks down at his hands, which are doing a fine job of worrying holes in his pants. That he won’t meet Jesse’s eyes is making him nervous. By the time he finally speaks, Jesse’s nearly worked himself up into a nervous fit – absolutely convinced that Hanzo is going to end their partnership.

“You remember when I saved you, yes?” Hanzo says, at last.

Jesse nods mutely. His throat has swollen up, feeling like something hard and sharp has lodged in it. His fingers are cramping up with how tightly he’s gripping his hat and Hanzo’s hand.

Stroking Jesse’s hand with his thumb, Hanzo raises their joined hands to his lips and presses a lingering kiss to Jesse’s knuckles, “I will not leave you, Jesse. I promise you have nothing to fear. It is just… I’m unsure how to ask you.”

He swallows around the lump in his throat, pulse roaring in his ears, “Ask me what?”

“If you would do more than simply ‘repay’ the debt that you owe me. I know we haven’t talked much about the future or what we want from each other, but I know what I want from you and that I do not want to lose you.”

“That…” Jesse swallows, clears his throat. His heart swells up, leaping into his throat. He gives up fighting the smile, “That kinda sounds like a marriage proposal.”

Hanzo returns the smile, a little shyly at first, then it grows into something beautiful, wide and open. “In a way, it is.”

 

 

 

Before they hit Transylvania, they make a detour to Switzerland. There’s not so much an official headquarters for Overwatch as there is a hub. Assignments are dispatched to certain places for pick-up, where whatever hunters are in the area can check and pick them up. Then, it’s just a matter of collecting payment when the job’s done.

It took Jesse a while to get used to it. And he’d been full of questions when he first started. Honestly, he’s surprised that Reyes didn’t slap him upside the head over some of the stupid ass shit he asked.

Jesse prefers avoiding Overwatch’s central hub. He just doesn’t like the place. It feels… strange to be the only real human in a room.

He leaves Hanzo, whose bow and quiver are tucked into a discreet case that the vampire stores at his feet, in a bar nearby, while he goes on to the central hub.

“Ah, McCree, it’s good to see you again,” Winston greets him.

Jesse’s still not quite used to the fact that Overwatch’s resident technological genius is a talking gorilla. No one questions it. Winston is Winston and that’s just how things are.

“Right back at you, big guy. Got anything new for me?”

“You’ve never fought vampires before,” Winston says, flicking absently through what Jesse’s sure is his file. “So I’ve enclosed a file on them – simply so you know the best, most effective way to take care of them. I know that Reyes was quite thorough on your education, but it never hurts to be prepared. And yes, I do happen to have something new for you. It’s experimental, so I hope that you’ll be careful with it; I’d like to see it again in one piece.”

Winston leads Jesse over to a table, on which sits an innocuous looking case. Despite his large hands, he easily flicks the latches and opens it, he turns it to Jesse, showing off his newest creation as he beams with pride.

“It’s fully automatic,” Winston says. “And comes preloaded with a cartridge of ammo. I’ve packed several more of those for you, but do be careful. You can’t just use any old bolt with this.”

‘This’ is a crossbow. It looks nothing like any that Jesse’s ever seen, but it’s quite beautiful in its own way. It does lack the elegant lines of Hanzo’s bow, but Jesse likes the practicality of it. He whistles, soft and low, as he hefts it out of its case, testing the weight of it.

“How’s the kickback?”

“You will want both feet firmly on the ground when you fire,” Winston replies. “And I can’t speak to its accuracy, but I think that you can easily compensate for that.”

“Oh yeah. I can do that, easily.”

 

 

 

Jesse’s worked with one Lena before. Years earlier, when he’d still been with Reyes and she’d more or less been a kid tagging along at Winston’s side. She’d been little more than a tiny little timespinner then. Now she’s a fully grown adult who grins brightly when she sees him and crushes his neck in a hug.

“Jesse! It’s so good to see you again! I can’t believe we’re working together this time!” Lena bounces on the balls of her feet. Then she spots Hanzo. “Oh hello! Who is this?”

“Uh, Lena this is Hanzo, Hanzo, this is Lena.”

“A pleasure,” Hanzo says, inclining his head to Lena. He doesn’t extend his hand, instead looking over Lena’s shoulder, a severe frown on his face. “I did not expect to encounter another of my kind.”

“Huh? You mean you’re – oh, Amelie, something happen?”

The woman that approaches is tall, slender, and stunningly beautiful. She’s also pale as snow, a rifle slung over her shoulder, and she radiates cold. She shakes Jesse’s hand and he can feel the chill even through both of their gloves.

“Amelie Lacroix,” she says, in a thick French accent. “I’m Lena’s partner.”

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Lena gushes. “But Jesse, you’ve gotta tell me how you and Hanzo met! You can tell me on the way into the village!”

 

 

 

To reach the small, Romanian village that’s been the epicentre of the attacks, they ride horseback along a narrow, dirt road.

Amelie pulls her horse up next to Jesse’s, watching Hanzo and Lena a short distance ahead of them.

“You’re aware what it means to owe your life to a vampire?” Amelie asks.

Jesse nods, “I knew what it meant when it happened.”

“But do you know what it means for one of us to hunt our own kind?” Amelie watches Lena, her eyes sad and faraway. “We vampires are solitary creatures, but loyal beyond all else. We only hunt our kind to atone.”

Hanzo stares ahead, but Jesse knows he’s heard every word.

“Yeah, I know.”

 

 

 

Turns out, they walked into a trap.

A good chunk of the village’s population have been turned, walking into the central square had them walking into an ambush.

The crossbow has enough of a kickback that Jesse leaves the firefight with a bruise on his shoulder. But it does end with Hanzo fussing over him, so he’s not going to complain.

Amelie drops down from the church’s steeple, nailing the landing easily.

“We shouldn’t stay in the open too long,” she says.

“This was a test,” Hanzo agrees. “To see how strong we are.”

Jesse rolls his shoulder, wincing from the pain. “So, we gotta find where their base is. Eliminate them at their source.”

“Oh, I like him.” Amelie smiles, the edges sharp and it sends shivers down Jesse’s spine – and not the good kind.

Hanzo twitches next to him, laying a hand on Jesse’s arm. His jaw is tight, twitching slightly, and he makes a long, low sound that Jesse thinks is definitely a growl. He’s never heard Hanzo make a noise like that before.

“Jesse’s right, though. We can’t let them call the shots. We gotta find out where they’re coming from,” Lena says, twirling her guns almost absently.

“But neither can we charge in without a plan,” Hanzo adds. “We must rest and regroup, then begin our investigation. I can scout the area – if _Amelie_ would like to accompany me?”

“Of course.” Amelie inclines her head.

“But–”

“It will be dark soon, ma cherie,” Amelie soothes, pressing a quick, light kiss to Lena’s cheek. “You and McCree lack our enhanced senses. We will be safe and return in a matter of hours – hopefully with a better understanding of where our enemy is lying in wait.”

“And you’ll be safe?”

Amelie smiles, this time soft and sweet, her eyes softening, “Ma cherie, I will always return to you. You have my word.”

Jesse looks away. Their farewells seem too intimate and that’s more of Lena than he ever wanted to see. He looks at Hanzo, who is staring intently at him.

“Hanzo–”

He’s stopped by cool fingers on his lips, “I will return before you know it, Jesse. I promise.”

 

 

 

The excitement comes to them.

Jesse and Lena take out, between them, another seven vampires. They’re lucky that they’re all newborns, cause if they’d been any older it would have been much more difficult. But they are young, unused to their new strength and uncoordinated. All they can think of is the kill, the feeding.

With Lena, it’s easy to lure them into a trap. Her ability to manipulate time around her lets her slip out of their grasp. And lets Jesse finish them off.

The trick to killing vampires is to cause as much damage as possible. They need to bleed out and bleed out quickly.

Aim for the neck, the chest, the heart. Strike for the arteries and veins. Make them bleed out quickly.

Once the last of the vampires hits the ground, Jesse begins the grim task of going through the bodies and decapitating them. It’s mostly a precaution; he’s quite certain that the majority of them are dead. Again.

Lena drags the bodies to the side, arranging them in a rough pile. Her face is pale, bloodless, and Jesse’s reminded of how young she is. She’s not had as much time as him to become inured to all the blood and gore.

He tosses the heads into a ravine for the crows.

 

 

 

An hour later, both Hanzo and Amelie return.

Amelie’s coat is singed and Hanzo’s missing a few arrows. They, too, ran into a pocket of newborn vampires that needed elimination.

Jesse doesn’t ask.

 

 

 

“My first kill was my husband.”

Jesse looks away from the long, narrow path that leads out of the oubliette. The two of them are wedged in, tossed in by Talon. A far more ancient vampire than any that Jesse’s dealt with before. He grinned at them, too many sharp teeth and eyes blacker than the devil himself.

“What–”

“When you are first reborn, you have no control over yourself. All you can think of is the next kill. The need to feed.”

Amelie is wedged a little above him, using her vampiric strength and endurance to keep herself suspended somewhat above him. The effort she’s going through to avoid touching him is impressive, but Jesse doesn’t know why she’s bothering. Sure, she’s an attractive woman, but he’s a taken man.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asks at last.

“You need to understand our kind,” Amelie replies. “If you desire to mate one of us.”

“ _Mate_?”

“That is what Hanzo wants from you. He treats you like his mate. It’s why I avoid touching you – he’s in the possessive, early stages.” She cocks her head to the side, listening to something that only she can hear, “He will tear Talon apart once he scents your blood on him. It will drive him into a rage.”

_Sounds like a marriage proposal_.

Oh.

“I know.”

Amelie raises an eyebrow, looking down at him sharply, “You–”

“Hanzo’s been with me for six years now,” Jesse says. “I’ve had six years to come to terms with what this means. And I wouldn’t want anyone else. Hanzo’s all I’d ever want. You can say I don’t understand and maybe I don’t, but I do know this: it’s too late for me. He’s already got all of me.”

 

 

 

Jesse ends up short one mechanical arm and Hanzo lost a lot of blood.

He’s never seen a more beautiful or welcome sight than Hanzo’s dragons tearing through the castle’s great hall, straight through Talon and tearing him apart. True, getting out of the way cost him his arm, but that can be replaced.

It’ll earn him a lecture from Winston, but Jesse would take that over being dead.

Hanzo’s right side is caked in blood. There’s a sluggishly bleeding scratch above his eyebrow, likely all that remains of a far more serious wound. If that’s still present, he’s lost a _lot_ of blood; he’ll have to hunt soon.

“Jesse.” Hanzo drops to his knees beside him, pulling him away from Talon’s remains and cradling him close. “Jesse, please–”

“M’fine,” Jesse slurs. “Looks worse than it is.”

It feels like his arm’s on fire, but that doesn’t matter. He’s alive and Hanzo’s there.

He reaches up with his only remaining arm, touching Hanzo’s cheek, “God, I’m glad you’re alive. I thought… I thought I lost you.”

Chuckling, though the sound is rough and broken, Hanzo leans down, pressing his forehead to Jesse’s. He’s trembling.

“You will not be rid of me so easily.”

Shit, he’s gonna cry, “I know, but… don’t scare me like that again, alright? You gotta promise me.”

Hanzo kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his nose. “I promise you, Jesse McCree.”

 

 

 

They end up in Zurich while Winston repairs Jesse’s arm.

Hanzo disappears from their hotel room for several hours. He returns several hours later, a flush to his cheeks that means he’s fed.

Wiggling over in the large bed, Jesse tugs the covers down, “C’mere, darling.”

Hesitating, Hanzo strips out of his dirtied, bloodied clothes and tosses them into the fire. He crawls into the bed slowly and, almost tentatively, reaches out to press a hand to Jesse’s chest, right over his heart.

With his one arm, Jesse pulls him close. The chill doesn’t bother him, nor that Hanzo’s chest is still or that his heart beats rarely. Instead, he finds the stillness calming. Hanzo’s hands wander along his bare chest, tracing new scars and old.

“I… I thought that he had killed you,” Hanzo says at last. He shakes his head, pressing a finger to Jesse’s lips when he’s about to interupt. “No, I need to – let me finish, please.”

Jesse nods, staying quiet, and waits for Hanzo to speak.

“When I thought you were dead, nothing else mattered. All I could think of was _killing him_. It did not matter that the effort might kill me. I… I hoped that if I _did_ die again, that… that I would be able to be with you again. It… it put things into perspective.”

Hanzo presses a lingering kiss against the pulse point in Jesse’s neck. Then, he pulls back, just enough to be able to meet Jesse’s eyes.

“I regretted not asking you before, on the train.”

“Yes.”

“Jesse, you don’t know what I–”

Jesse smiles at him, wide and warm, “Hanzo, my answer’s not gonna change. It’s still gonna be yes. You’ve already got all of me.”

“This is more than marriage, Jesse. You would never be rid of me. You would be as vital to me as air. Our very existences would be linked together.”

“Good,” Jesse says, leaning down to kiss Hanzo. He kisses him hard, pulling him tightly to him. But he’s the one who’s gotta pull away for air. “Cause I don’t ever wanna be apart from you.”

Hanzo sighs, “You are impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love that about me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Gently exploring Jesse’s shoulders with his fingers, Hanzo lets out a deep exhalation. Then, he meets Jesse’s eyes, “I would like to ask you probably, however.”

“Alright. Go ahead.” Jesse’s grinning like an idiot and he knows it. He’s beyond caring, though.

“Jesse McCree,” Hanzo begins, voice low and deep. “Will you become my mate?”

He drops his forehead to Hanzo’s, “I’d like nothing more.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Prompt:** alternate universe  
>  **Words:** 4215 words
> 
> So, I rewrote what I had originally for the Van Helsing AU. It's not quite what I originally had planned, but since this is a series, there's going to be more. I can always come back and expand on anything if I want to. But I'm actually quite proud of this. It came out better than I could've hoped. And I'll definitely be building on and expanding on certain elements introduced here in other parts of this little series of mine. I'm really happy to see that others are enjoying this. <3 I promise, there will be more vampire-y goodness coming soon!
> 
> As always, you can come bug me on [tumblr](http://graysonflynn.tumblr.com/) where I am a complete dork.


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